ghosting
by ignisvolat
Summary: A silence like his isn't something born, instinctual. It's sculpted. Slowly, steadily, within the heart of an old soul.
1. Chapter 1

Many children meet death, but most don't know it until they're older. Gunter met death when he was five.

It was a warm summer morning. The sun shone down on the grass, electrifying it with virant sreaks of greens and yellows. A few clouds loomed above, thick enough to leave narrow shadows across the plains below. Sunlight reflected off the distant walls and lit them in a blinding white.

Excitement bubbled in his chest as he scampered from room to room, shoving a worn pair of socks and shoes onto his feet. He almost threw himself over the kitchen chair as he sprang into it; it teetered on its legs. He managed to balance himself. Mama cast him a brief glance from the stove, his baby sister, Nadette, bouncing in her arms.

Mama is a tall woman, almost as tall as Papa. Her skin is a tone darker, the color of copper, and her hair, her eyes, the cool hue of wet earth. She wears her hair in a long braid, bundled into a loose knot at the back of her head. Her bangs hang in a messy way around her face, framing her rounded features nicely. She smiles at him as she approaches the kitchen table, leaning to pour him a glass of water. "You look excited."

"Nazar an' I are gonna look for lizards!" He exclaimed, draping his upper half across the table. Mama smiled and chuckled under her breath, bouncing Nadette in her arm. She cooed, tilting her head.

"I'm sure you'll find a lot," she said.

After a quick breakfast of bread and a few small helpings of an apple, Gunter shoved from the table and shot out the door. He leapt down the three house steps and bounded on. His legs flailed under him, awkward and lanky. He'd never been a fast runner; his strides were something akin to a newborn foal. But he was too young to notice, too young to care, and sprinted on with a sense of excitement and determination.

He ran all the way through the summer grass. Onto the narrow dirt path that that wound through the farms scattered throughout southern Wall Maria. A small ways down the road, the path forked beside an old tree stump. Gunter slid to a stop, walking an extra circle around the stump before seating himself on the edge.

Nazar was almost always late. For good reason. His papa had begun to teach him how to do work on their farm, tending to what few cattle and goats they had. Gunter knew it wouldn't be long until his own Papa started to teach him how to work on their farm. Mama had already shown him how to feed the chickens, and he helped her every couple of days. Maybe sometime soon Papa would teach him more about the garden. Or he could help Mama look for eggs every morning and afternoon. Anything he could do to help.

The scruff of shoes caught his ears and he looked up. Nazar shot down the road, whooping as he reached the stump. A shorter boy than Gunter, Nazar is towhead blond, built sturdy but not thick. His features are wide and soft, brimming with excitement. Energy buzzes in the air around him as he approaches. Gunter bounces to his feet and the two dart for the stream.

It wasn't far from the two houses. That's why they were allowed to go alone. The little stream ran almost perfectly between the their homes and curled in gentle sways all the way down into the forest. Gunter sometimes would stare out to its end, wondering how long it was. He'd look from the stream to the glowing white wall beyond and wonder if the river went beyond the wall, or if it stopped like everything else in the world did.

They reached the stream in minutes, hopping over patches of grass until their shoes touched the muddy bank.

"Do y'think we'll catch a lizard?" Nazar asked, flopping down in the mud and tugging at his shoes. Gunter dropped down beside him, ignoring the pebble that poked his behind.

"We'll catch a lot," he said, determined. Nazar liked this answer.

"We'll catch all the lizards in the world!"

Gunter grinned. "Yeah!"

They shoved to their feet, leaping into the shallow stream. The water was ice cold, burning his feet and toes on contact. His sensitive skin scraped against the gravel and stones beneath the surface, but after the shiver had passed through his spine Gunter forgot about the discomforts. He and Nazar split up, Gunter wandering up the current and Nazar wandering down.

He turned a few stones and nudged over others with the tips of his toes. There wasn't much beneath any of them. The only sign of life so far were the few flashes of light glittering beneath the water's surface. Fish. He knew because Papa told him last week. The smaller fish like to live in the streams. Sometimes you can see them when their scales catch sun-rays in their pockets.

He wondered if people could learn to do that, too. It'd be pretty neat to catch a sun-ray in your pocket and let it out to shine when it got dark at night.

He continued to wander upstream, poking at rocks and watching the water ripple around his ankles. One of the glittering fish zipped past him and he looked up, eyes following it as it darted through the water. And that's when he saw it.

It could have been mistaken for a stray blade of grass. A small green body, thin and bright, perched on one of the stream rocks. Gunter's eyes widened and he ducked as though this would somehow hide him from the tiny creature. It seemed to have already spotted him. Its black eyes fixed on him and not the tiniest bit of it moved.

In a few years, Gunter would know this meant it was scared. But right now the lizard had no personality, had no mind. It just _was_.

He crept closer, steps small and careful. The lizard still hadn't moved, save for the slow rise and fall of a little pouch just under its throat. Breathing. It was relaxed, so maybe the lizard hadn't seen him after all. He'll be able to catch it and show it to Nazar as their first prize.

Filled with a new sense of determination, Gunter sprang forward. The lizard was faster, and in a green blur it zipped to the other side of the stone. Gunter's hands fumbled after it, missing each time. His knuckles scraped against the rough surface of the river rock. He huffed, ignoring the small flashes of pain flaring in his skin. He's used to the scrapes and cuts. These sorts of things always happened in the stream bed. It was the nature of this part of their world.

The few times he'd gone into town with Mama, he'd seen some of the older kids comparing their scars and telling stories. The bigger, the more daring and dangerous you were, of course. Gunter had never had a scar larger than a cut from a stone, and he didn't mind. Nazar would sometimes mention he wanted a cut on his arm so he could say he fought a bear, or even a wild boar. Gunter would give him a skeptical look. He was pretty sure a bear would do more damage than any branch could. So would a boar. But he never said so; it'd just upset his friend. Besides, he liked the goofy smirk Nazar would get when he'd make such statements.

Mama had warned him about both animals and he knew to stay away, not to get close. Neither of the two would venture far from the wooods, he thought. They were safe as long as they kepy away from the thick treeline. Still, he'd pass wary glances to the north. Some days he feared that he'd look up and see one of the beasties looming at the edge, watching them and waiting for the chance to get close enough and drag them into the shadows, never to be seen again.

Gunter shivered, and he wandered back downstream to where Nazar stalked around some debris.

"Didja find one?" Nazar asked as he approached, turning over a rock by some plants.

"Yeah," Gunter said.

Nazar put the rock down and looked up at him, squinting his eyes and wrinkling his nose. "Y'didn't catch it?"

"No."

"Awh."

Nazar pursed his lips. This was a disappointing development for them both. They were supposed to catch all the lizards in the world this morning. So far, things didn't seem off to a good start. Their first lizard had escaped.

But Nazar seemed to forget Gunter's mishap, and he turned to wade another couple feet away. The two were silent for a minute or so, treading aimlessly through the water, before Nazar turned to face Gunter. He grinned, hands clasped into small fists. "Let's look together!"

Gunter brightened. This was a brilliant idea. Instead of splitting up to cover more ground they could work together. Four hands instead of two! Maybe they could even corner a lizard and catch it just like Papa and Mama had to do with some of their chickens. This was a good idea. "Yeah!"

So they took off. This time, downstream ( since the lizard that got away would warn its upstream friends, of course ). Sure enough, the plan worked now that four eyes were searching instead of two. Nazar spotted a lizard, another one relaxing on a large stone, and pointed.

Both boys ducked low, letting their hands graze the trickling stream. They crept through the water. Gunter felt a sharp stone beneath the surface scrape his foot, but he paid it no mind. His focus remained on the lizard.

Was this lizard like them? Had its parents told it not to venture towards the stream or two beasties would attempt to catch it? He felt bad, just for a moment. His steps slowed as Nazar continued forward. Then also he slowed. Stopped. Waited.

Neither moved for what seemed like a brief eternity.

Then, Nazar sprang forward. He missed the lizard by mere centimeters, crying out in frustration as the little creature zipped away. Gunter, forgetting his concerns, dove after it. He splashed around the stone and caught sight of the lizard just as it slipped through the water and darted for shore. It was attempting to run back into the safety of the grass, where its coloring would protect it.

"Get it!" Nazar cried. Gunter tore forward.

The lizard shot across the ground, a bright green flash against the dark earth, and Gunter followed. Nazar stumbled along behind, catching up just as Gunter tripped and fell into the grass. He let out a faint ' _umph!_ ' and pushed back to his feet as Nazar shot past him.

"Where did it go?!" He demanded. Gunter ran up beside him, huffing. He looked around, eyes searching for any sort of movement.

"I dunno!"

It had to have gone somewhere. Things don't just disappear, they don't vanish in the blink of an eye. Yet, this lizard was gone. Just like that. Not a blade of grass moved.

Nazar stomped his foot. "Where is it!?"

Gunter sighed. "Let's go back to the water."

"No," Nazar said, determination flashing in his bright blue eyes. "I wanna find it."

"There's too much grass."

"So?"

Gunter frowned, but he did agree. They were the best lizard catchers they knew ( the only lizard catchers they knew ). This little lizard couldn't fool them. Gunter nodded, joining Nazar as they traveled forward, scouring the grass for any movement.

Neither spoke for a long time. They had to be quiet or they might scare the lizard away before they even saw it. So they remained silent, until he heard Nazar hiss.

"Gunter!"

He turned his head and saw Nazar pointing towards a pile of rocks, sitting high in the sunlight. Surrounded by a flourish of flowers, the stones looked almost heavenly, graced with the gentle sound of beehum. And right smack on top, right in their view as though the little thing was taunting them, was a bright green lizard. Its beady black eyes fixed on them and its throat pulsed in and out in slow, concentrated breathes. Gunter and Nazar cast each other excited looks, crouching low in the grass.

They crept forward. Slow. Patient. Like predators all their own. Like the mousers that dodged beneath sheds and barns, hunting for rats and sparrows.

Then, Nazar let out a loud " _HA!_ " and pounced. The lizard was faster, and it shot across the stone just as Nazar's hands smacked the surface. Nazar let out an angry little cry and kicked the flowers, stomping on them and folding his arms. The lizard disappeared into the grass again and was nowhere to be seen.

"I almost had it!" Nazar grumbled. Gunter walked up and nodded his head.

"That was close."

"I hate that lizard," Nazar declared, puffing out his cheeks. "Let's go- _OOOOWWW!_ "

Gunter jumped as Nazar screamed out, his eyes wide. Nazar sprang away from the flowers and slapped at his shoulder. He crumbled to his knees and clawed a little at his neck. Gunter ran to his side, throwing a glance back at the crushed flowers. A buzzing dot zipped away, disappearing into the sky as soon as he'd seen it.

"Nazar?!" Gunter asked, reaching his side and crouching beside him. Nazar sniffed, large tears rolling down his cheeks as he looked up. Gunter peeked over his shoulder at the large welt beginning to rise just at the base of his neck. At the sight of it, his eyes widened, and he tried to pull Nazar to his feet. "C'mon!"

He knew exactly what to do. Nazar's mama would know how to patch him up and make him all better. She'd helped them with little injuries and wounds many times when they'd played down at the stream and cut themselves on river rocks. This was nothing she wouldn't be able to handle.

Gunter coaxed Nazar to his feet, keeping his hand in his, and the two ran from the small stream towards the old stump. From there, they'd run the short distance to Nate's house.

They'd made it almost half-way to the stump when Nazar's pace began to slow. He stumbled and tripped, gasping as Gunter dragged him along. Gunter tried to slow his pace as well, casting worried glances over his shoulder as they neared the stump. Nazar was getting paler. His lips had begun to turn blue. He was gagging on his breathes. And by the time they reached the stump, Nazar stumbled and collapsed. Gunter's eyes widened and he cried out, dropping to Nazar's side and trying to drag him back onto his feet. But Nazar wouldn't stand. He choked and gasped, vomiting on the path before he fell onto his side and twitched violently. His throat seemed bigger than it had been before.

Gunter shoved to his feet and sprinted through the remaining distance to Nazar's house. He pounded on the door until his mother answered, and he nearly dragged her down the steps, shouting and pointing. He released her hand and ran in a blur back to where he'd left Nazar. By the time they reached him, Nazar had stopped gagging. But he was still twitching and wheezing. Nazar's mother let out a cry and dropped to his side, pulling him into her arms and wrapping them tightly around him.

She sobbed, teetered to her feet and told Gunter to go home. So he did.

His mother seemed surprised when he got home so soon, but even more surprised to see that he was crying. Gunter explained what had happened the best he could. They'd been chasing lizards. A bee stung Nazar. He started acting weird and after they'd found him, his mama had sent Gunter home.

He didn't know what to think of this or how to feel. He knew he was scared. He knew something was _wrong_. A sense that worsened as his mother planted a palm over her mouth, her eyes swollen and glassy. She reached out and wrapped her arms around Gunter, pulling him against her in the same loving and protective way Nazar's mother had held him. She cupped a hand against the back of his head, and he felt her shoulders quake. Her chest gave a small heave.

As Papa came to check on them, she told him to go to Nazar's house. He did.

That evening when Papa got back, things were quiet. Mama hovered around Gunter, checking on him and asking if he was doing okay throughout the night.

"Yeah," he'd reply, "but is Nazar?"

She'd give him a look of concern and, again, cup her fingers against her mouth. And when it was time for bed, she held his hand and sang his favorite lullaby twice. Then she kissed his nose and left.

He lay in bed that night with worried thoughts and hardly slept. He could hear Mama sobbing in the next room over, just above Nadette's soft breathing. Gunter listened until he could hear his Mama's cries and his Papa's comforts no more, and he rolled over. He stared at the moon until his eyelids sank and the world around him went silent.

* * *

The next morning, Gunter bounded from bed. Again, the sun filled the sky and its golden light spread across the landscape. There were no clouds.

He launched from his room, skipping up to Mama as she made breakfast. Nadette bounced in the crook of her arm. He ate in a rush, shoveling food into his mouth piece after piece, and shoved out of his chair. But this time, Mama stopped him.

"Gunter," she called, a shake in her voice, "if you're going to play outside today, please play around the house."

The request confused him, knowing that Nazar would spend several minutes waiting for him at the stump, but he obeyed. It made sense. Nazar had gotten hurt. He was going to need a day or two to heal up, and he'd be fine. Until then, Mama wouldn't want him to go playing by the stream alone. So he spent the day playing with the chickens, sitting in their coop and letting them perch on his lap and shoulders.

* * *

The next morning, he wanted to leave immediately after breakfast. He'd had to beg Mama to at least let him wait by the stump to see if Nazar was okay. After a long while, she dressed Nadette and announced she was going to go and wait with him. So they walked, hand-in-hand, down to the little stump. And he waited.

Minutes passed. There was no sign of Nazar.

Nadette cooed and squeaked, babbling questions and pointing in random directions. Mama bounced her and gave half-hearted answers. Gunter realized that she was more focused on watching him.

After what seemed like they'd been waiting at the little stump forever, he turned to Mama and frowned.

"Is Nazar sick?" He asked. Mama pressed her lips together.

"Yes."

"When is he gonna get better?"

Her lips quivered. He saw a glassiness come back into her eyes and she shook her head. "He's not, baby."

His heart sank. He felt confused. He didn't understand. People got hurt all the time and they got better. If Nazar never got better then did that mean they wouldn't be able to look for lizards anymore? Or play by the stream? Or... do anything?

"Will I see him again?"

"... No, baby," she whispered.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to ask questions. But he wouldn't. Instead, he took his mother's offered hand and squeezed it, allowing her to lead him away from the stump. As they walked, he cast a glance down the path to where he could see the dot that was Nazar's small house. The shutters were closed.

He'd never go back there again, he realized. There was no reason to if he couldn't see Nazar.

Nazar had disappeared. Things, people, weren't supposed to just disappear. But one minute he'd been there, laughing and chasing lizards at his side. And, just like that, he'd vanished. Without warning. Without any trace.

He was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time he was seven he'd stopped passing glances to the old house and little stump sitting on the corner of the road.

He spent most of his free time playing with Nadette or watching her for Mama. At five years old she's adventurous and daring, just as he'd been when it happened. They spent the afternoons out in the little fields around their house. He was a little too cautious, maybe, taking care to make sure she wouldn't stumble or fall on anything. It annoyed her sometimes, yes, but she listened and understood his concerns. She looked up to him. Without any neighboring children to play with, other homes would be too long a walking distance from their house; the two only had each other, but that was enough.

Gunter followed her one afternoon a small ways away from their house, so they were still in its sight despite the distance. They set their lunches, wrapped loose in simple brown paper, on a nearby rock after Nadette deemed the spot worthy for their play. She insisted on tag or hide-and-seek ( both of which he disdained ). The concept of hide-and-seek worried him too much. He wanted to make sure he could keep a close eye on her. She seemed saddened, at first, by his resistance but didn't argue. After he explained why she nodded, wide-eyed but without any signs of fear. So they decided on tag.

* * *

They'd been at their game for ten minutes. He'd just papped her shoulder, wheeling on his heels and gasping a small breath as he sprinted away. A flash of movement caught in the corner of his eye. Gunter turned his head.

A large, coal-feathered crow had perched on the rock where they'd left their lunches. It pecked, plucked, at the wrapping, and it hopped to the side as the paper crinkled and broke.

Gunter slowed and Nadette crashed into him. They both toppled into the grass.

"Ow!" Naddy yelped. Gunter huffed, wiggling out from under her.

"Sorry."

"That hurted."

" _Awh!_ "

Gunter looked up. The crow had turned to face them now. It must have realized it'd been spotted. That, or this was its friendly way of telling them to be quiet before the real owners of the food showed up. Little did the bird know, they were the owners. Gunter frowned and pushed to his feet.

He jogged at the bird and waved his arms. The crow turned, hopped once across the rock and flew a few feet away. It landed and hopped in the grass, tilting and craning its head as it stalked around.

" _Awh-awh!_ "

Gunter felt a small pang of guilt.

Everyone was hungry. They rarely had enough food to fill their own bellies. Even after eating their lunches this afternoon, he knew their stomachs would be begging for more. It must be no different for the crow, he thought, watching as it continued to linger. It seemed to be waiting for them to go back and play a second round, giving it another chance to snag a bite or two. But the large bird wouldn't have to wait.

Gunter reached for his bread and cheese and unwrapped them with care. He tugged bits of the bread apart. Nadette scrambled to his side, planting her hands on the rock and peering up at him. She watched; dark eyes squinted, then widened in curiousity.

"Wha're you doin'?"

"M'gonna feed it," he said. He tossed the bits of bread in front of him. It wasn't far of a throw. Nothing impressive, especially for something as light as bread crumbs.

The crow tilted its head. It awh!ed, and after a few seconds deliberation, seemed satisfied. The bird hopped and flapped its wings, landing gracefully among the bread bits and beginning to gobble them up. Nadette let out a soft squeak of delight and giggled. Gunter smiled. He waited until the crow had eaten nearly all the pieces he'd thrown before he threw a few more. The crow danced out of the way as they fell to the ground, taking another second to watch them. Then it hopped closer again and snatched up the pieces, _awh!_ ing and flicking its wings. Gunter continued to throw pieces until he'd only a fourth of his bread left.

His stomach growled, and as he reached to pull another piece of bread Nadette grabbed at his wrist. He looked at her and she shook her head, catching his palm on the third try. "You need t'eat, too."

Reluctant as he was, she was right. He looked to the crow and nodded once, taking a small step back. "Sorry."

The crow flicked its wings. It tilted its head, watching them as they watched back. After lingering for a minute more, it turned and leapt into the sky, fluttering away and disappearing into the trees. They didn't see it again for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

The next day, Gunter went out to the little spot where they'd met the crow. Naddy ran along beside him, excited and babbling about the possibilities of seeing the crow again.

"D'ya think we could catch it?" She asked, tripping once on a small stone. Gunter caught her arm and pulled her upright, and she walked on as though she hadn't tripped at all.

"No," he answered, casting her a gentle frown. "We're not gonna catch the bird."

"Why not?"

"Would it make you happy to be kept in a cage all day?"

"... No."

"That's why."

Naddy sighed and stopped walking, giving him a moment's pout over her shoulder. But she nodded. "Yeah. That would be mean."

They left their lunches on the same rock and began to play tag again. Is it possible to pretend you're playing tag? Because that's exactly what they did.

They scampered around, giving each other's shoulders lazy slaps. They'd cast eager glances to the rock where their food sat, waiting for the arrival of a possible new friend. The crow didn't appear. And after nearly fifteen minutes, as their legs began to ache and their breath ran thin, they began to think the bird would never arrive. But, as though it'd sensed the cue:

" _Awh!_ "

There it was. Perched on the rock and plucking at their lunch wraps.

Gunter approached the rock again, slower this time. The bird hopped down the side of the rock and fluttered a small distance away. It hovered a little closer than their last meeting. Gunter unwrapped his lunch and threw bread bits to the bird once more. It _awh!_ ed and pecked at the bits, ruffling its feathers as it prowled around the grass.

Nadette sat on the rock with her lunch and nibbled her cheese, giggling at the bird and swinging her legs. Sometimes she'd break off pieces of the cheese and hand them to Gunter, insisting that he eat them even after he shook his head. She'd then lean closer and shove the wedge against the corner of his lips, keeping the pressure until he finally opened his mouth and let the piece fall in. He'd chew it, giving her an exaggerated frown, and she'd sway back into place with an impish smile.

* * *

By the fifth day, the large crow had stopped pecking at the food wrapping. It waited, quiet and still, on the rock for them to notice it had arrived. Gunter walked the small distance to the rock and the bird hopped down the side, fluttering into its usual place.

Gunter and Nadette would take turns feeding it ( and Nadette would share her lunch with Gunter, whether he liked it or not ) until there was no more bread left to give. The crow _awh!_ ed and left. Gunter decided this was the bird's way of saying 'thank you'.

* * *

They told their parents about their new friend over supper that evening. Mama seemed interested and amazed by what they'd managed to do with the bird, how regularly it showed up. She and Nadette chattered on about the bird. Gunter watched them pleasantly, but soon realized Papa had remained quiet during the whole exchange, poking at his food with his fork and only eating every couple bites. The air around him felt tense, and Gunter was quick to look away.

That evening, as he and Naddy lay in bed to fall asleep, he could hear discussion in the room across from theirs.

"Trennen," Mama would say, whispering soft but not soft enough. "It's just a bird."

"It's a crow, Zhivka. Those things are bad omen."

A pause. Gunter didn't know what the word 'omen' meant, but he knew there was nothing bad about their new friend.

"Don't be ridiculous," Mama hissed. "The past few days they've been happy. And it's because of that bird. You call that 'bad omen'?"

"They've barely eaten their own food," Papa grumbled back. "They've been giving it to that _bird_. So yes."

The whispers dropped to lower tones. Gunter tried to hear but his eyelids began to grow heavy. He blinked, slow and weary, before his eyes sank close and he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

It took a week for the bird to discover where they lived, much to Papa's obvious disdain. Not that it was all that difficult; the house was always in view during their little meal times and lunch sharing.

Sometimes the crow would fly above them and perch in one of the near trees, or on the roof. It would _awh!_ until they disappeared into the little cabin. It lingered for five or so minutes and flew away; they wouldn't see it again until the next afternoon.

Gunter and Nadette set one late morning and were surprised to see the crow had beat them to the rock. Gunter realized it had something clasped in its beak. A shiney bit of blue, deep as the mid-afternoon sky.

The crow let out a soft _awh-awh!_ and dropped the blue bit. It fluttered away from the rock and stalked in a slow circle, tilting its head. It was watching them, waiting to see their reaction.

Gunter approached the rock and set his lunch down on top of it. He plucked the blue piece from the dirt and held it up. It was a bright blue button, shiny and either well kept or quite new. He showed it to Nadette and she cooed, leaning foward and furrowing her brows as she tilted her head.

"What is it?"

"A button," Gunter said. And he looked at the crow, nodding once. "Thank you."

The crow flicked its winds, tilting its head to one side.

They tossed their winged friend bits of food again, both chattering and trying to decide on where the button must have come from.

* * *

It became routine.

The crow continued to bring them trinkets. There was the button, of course, which Gunter had tucked into the bottom of his pillow. A few days after that, the crow brought them a scrap of metal. Neither could figure out what it was, but it was sharp to the touch. Maybe a piece of sword from one of the soldiers? Nadette liked that idea. He didn't.

A few days after that, the crow brought them a copper coin. Gunter presented the three gifts to Mama one afternoon after their ritual lunch, placing the items in a careful row across the kitchen table.

"This must be the crow's way of saying 'thank you'," Mama suggested. She clasped her hands on the table in front of her and smiled. "You've been very generous."

Gunter liked this idea. "I thought it looked hungry."

"It probably was."

A pause as she watched him poke and reorganize the little pieces on the table.

"Baby." Mama glanced over her shoulder, her smile softening before she leaned a little closer and tilted her head to look up at him. "Have you named your friend yet?"

Gunter pursed his lips. He'd been hesitant to name the crow. Calling it 'the crow' kept a certain amount of detachment between them. If the crow failed to show up one day, that'd be okay. It was just the crow, after all. And there were many crows out in the forest.

"No," he admitted, biting his lower lip.

Mama smiled. "Maybe you and Nadette should."

"Nadette wants to name it 'Blackie'," he huffed, frowning at the simplicity of the name. That was like naming their chickens after the colors of their feathers. Which would just be plain confusing. Three of them were brown. How would you ever distinguish the three from each other?

Mama chuckled. "And how about you?"

He hesitated, shrugging. "I dunno."

"Well, think about it," she said, reaching across to take one of his hands and give it a gentle squeeze. "Names mean a lot. But I'm sure whatever you decide on, your little friend is going to love it."

Gunter hoped she was right.

* * *

Mama gave him a box to keep the crow's presents in. It was a tiny box, a jewelry box, one so old and worn that the paint had long faded from its soft creamy coat to more of a grayish-yellow. There were a few chips and holes where decorations had once been. The golden clasp which would have kept the box shut looked like it'd fallen off a long time ago. Gram-gram had given her the box when she was about his age, Mama said. The ugliness of the box gave it a certain charm, and it was a safe place to store the crow's little gifts ( and far more comfortable than his pillow ).

His collection currently included: the blue button, a scrap of metal, a copper piece, a few shiney river stones, what appeared to be an earring of sorts, two small gears and a few broken bits of stained glass.

Other people might consider the items trash. But Gunter looked at them as though they were the most beautiful of treasures in the world.

* * *

It took a while for him to finally name the crow.

He didn't know a lot of names, but he knew he wasn't fond of 'Blackie'. It was too simple, even if he didn't have the heart to tell Nadette so. He'd allow her to continue calling the bird that for her own happiness-he didn't mind. But for him, he needed something a bit deeper. And he'd only had one friend in his whole, rather short, life. The name kept appearing, repeating, itself in his mind. It lingered behind, even though its owner had long vanished.

"Nazar," he said suddenly. The bird didn't seem to hear. Of course it didn't, this name was new to it. Perhaps it would learn in time. "Do you like the name Nazar?"

The crow hopped after a chunk of bread and tilted its head. It _awh!_ ed, soft, and flicked its wings. Gunter decided to take that as a 'yes'.


	3. Chapter 3

He was eight years old when they began to acknowledge the signs.

Nadette squinted at things or tripped on the three steps leading down from their porch. As Mama began to try teaching her simple letters, she was unable to distinguish them. A few habits began to make sense, too. Like why she stuck so close to Gunter when they explored, insisting they hold hands. Why her fork would sometimes clink in the space beside her food.

Nadette needed glasses.

The fact alone seemed to drive their parents into a twisted stress.

At night he'd hear them talking. The walls were thin enough to hear Mama's worried tones and Papa's firmer words. 'She's gotten along fine without them' Papa would say. There'd be a long pause before Mama spoke. Gunter couldn't always understand it, as she spoke softer, lower. He'd frown to himself as he lay in bed, hoping Nadette was actually asleep. She didn't need to hear this, too.

He'd chew his lip as he watched her roll over and cling to his arm. His eyes trailed to the ceiling. He'd stare into it until the darkness above sank into his conscious, and he slept a dreamless sleep.

* * *

They sat out by the rock one afternoon. Gunter tossed breadcrumbs to Nazar, who hopped around and snatched them up. Today's gift had been another small scrap of metal. It was shiney, newer and Gunter and Nadette had spent a good sum of their time trying to decide what it must be. They'd grown bored, eventually, and left each other to their own guesses.

As Gunter continued to feed Nazar, Nadette pranced around the small area in search of bugs and other oddities. Gunter watched her, aware that her eyes weren't as good as his. He noticed her stumble on a few rocks or place her hand on a twig she hadn't known was there. It worried him.

Papa said she'd be fine without these glasses things, but he believed that less and less every day.

Finally at dinner, as he watched Nadette miss the food on her plate once more, he looked up.

"Papa, Naddy really needs them."

A pause. Papa stopped eating and looked up. Mama, too.

"What, Gunter?" Papa asked. Gunter inhaled.

"Naddy needs glasses," he said, gripping his fork. Papa stared at him in silence, and he cast a short glance to Mama. Mama shook her head and looked back down at her food. There was a period of silence before Papa sighed and turned back to Gunter.

"Glasses are very, very expensive, Gunter," he explained, shaking his head. "And they're very, very easy to break. Your mother and I can't afford to get Nadette something she'll break in less than a week."

"I won't!" Nadette shot back, looking up from her meal. Gunter chewed the inside of his mouth, swallowing a little as Papa stared back at her.

Papa exhaled through his nose. Nadette scowled and wiggled in her seat. Gunter noticed she seemed to shrink a little. He didn't like that, but he stayed quiet.

"Trennen," Mama said, reaching across and placing her hand over Papa's. "I think we need to give her a chance."

Papa shot her an incredulous glance. She bit her lip, shrugging her shoulders and continuing to speak. "Think about it. She can wear them. Learn what they do for her. And if she breaks them, she'll just have to live without them until we can afford a new pair. And if she breaks the new pair, then..." Her voice trailed off and she shrugged a second time.

Both were silent for a while. Gunter shifted in his seat. He couldn't tell if Papa was considering it or not. His eyes would swap between Nadette and Mama, his face calm and flat. Until he let out a slow breath. He nodded his head.

"Alright."

* * *

They made the long journey into town first thing in the following morning.

Papa stayed back on the farm. Gunter walked hand-in-hand with Mama. Nadette clung to her other hand and skipping along beside her. He'd glance at her every now and again, just like Mama would, making sure she didn't trip or stumble.

The further they traveled, the closer Mama held them. Once the town was in sight she pulled them close to her sides and wouldn't release their hands. Her thumb drew absent circles on the backs of their palms.

By the time they reached the town it was afternoon. Gunter knew it would be late by the time they got home again. Luckily, Papa had given them enough pieces to buy the glasses and a small snack. They wouldn't go all day without food.

Mama seemed tense as they strode into the market, and it didn't take long for Gunter to realize why. There was so much going on. Merchants at their stands trying to sell their produce or trade, crowds bustling about, all under a roar of conversation and cloud of smells. He felt his heart pound in his chest and pressed closer to his mother's side as she steered them along.

A glance to the side revealed alleyways filled with clothing lines, large wash pails and children screaming as they rushed about. One of them, he noticed, wore a green shirt tied around her neck so it flew out behind her like a cape. Gunter's mouth went sour as he realized the child was playing soldier. Scouting Legion soldier, to be specific. He looked away, goosebumps prickling his skin as though a cool sheet had fallen over him.

* * *

It took several minutes of careful navigation, but they managed to find the doctor's house.

They slipped inside, standing against one of the walls as the few seats were occupied. Mama pulled them closer to her, holding their heads against her dress as a coughing man shuffled through the small living space. Gunter looked up at her. Her soft features were stern, and she watched the strangers with a certain air of caution. He adjusted his hand in hers and squeezed it. She looked down at him and, for a moment, her features warmed. She smiled, squeezing his hand back, and returned her attention to the room.

Gunter looked out at the doctor's living area, too. He wondered what it would be like to have a constant stream of people coming in, or having to leave home to see a sick person. There wasn't anyone close to their little farm considered a doctor.

A door opened and a small woman came out. Her hair was pulled into a messy bundle behind her head, though the front strands stuck out in a few places and hovered around her face. It was the color of aged paint, grayed white with hints of yellow. She called for the 'next' person. Mama cast a glance to a man who'd arrived at the same time they had. He shook his head, tilting his chin to the doctor. Mama thanked him, squeezing their hands before she guided them across the room to the open door.

The doctor showed Nadette pieces of paper, asking her if she could make out what letters or numbers were on the cards. She got one, maybe two, right. She'd miss a letter or confuse one number for a different one.

Gunter looked between her and Mama, who sat with one arm crossed across her chest. The other palm pressed to her chin so her knuckles rested against her lips. Her brows wrinkled together; she seemed to be both paying attention and lost in herself. Gunter reached across and took the hand resting at her side. She jumped at first, small, and looked down at him. A gentle smile spread across her lips and she took his hand in return. She squeezed it and he squeezed back. Their attention returned to Nadette.

At the session's end, they left with a slip of paper. When asked, Mama said it told them what sort of glasses they would need.

The doctor gave them directions to a shop somewhere deeper in town. Mama kept them close as they navigated the thinner crowds and alleyways. Her hands kept a firm hold on their wrists, and she slowed if she sensed one of them began to fall behind or became distracted. She'd stoop, coaxing them back to her side. It wasn't hard for Gunter. He stayed pressed to her hip, clinging to her hand as though the earth would open up and swallow him whole any moment. Nadette seemed entranced with the town. She'd hop to the side or begin to wander away, and Mama would pull her back each time. Naddy huffed, but her pouting never lasted longer than a minute or two.

When they reached the small shop, Mama lead them up the steps and guided them inside without a word. It was a tall wooden building with stone stairs and many windows, to let the sunlight in. Gunter stared at the towering stands lining the walls of the little shop, occupied what he assumed could only be glasses. Most of them were square-framed, painted black or a pale shade of brown. There didn't seem to be much of a selection if you preferred color.

Only once they reached the counter did Mama release his hand ( keeping Nadette's ), and she handed the shopkeeper the slip of paper. He looked it over and guided them to one of the stands. He selected two or three pairs from the rack and knelt, testing each of them over Nadette's ears and nose to find one that would fit her proportions. Within a few minutes he declared a black, rounded square pair a success, and he and Mama returned to the counter to work out a payment.

Nadette tilted her head and stared at her reflection in a small mirror. Gunter mimicked the motion, blinking at her new glasses.

"They're cool," he said. She shuffled her feet.

"They itch my nose."

"A lot?"

"No. But it itches."

Gunter frowned. "Can you see?"

She turned her head to look at him and gave him a beaming smile. He smiled back. That was all he needed to know.

* * *

The journey home was great. Despite a faint look of stress in Mama's eyes, she glowed as she lead them down the path. Nadette would drag them along, alive with a new awareness. She pointed at various things as they passed, her voice shrill and excited as she spied birds fly overhead, or little flowers sprouting on the side of the road. She'd never noticed many of the small details before. They'd been blurred, melded, into everything else. Too small or too distant for her to make out.

Gunter beamed with Nadette as she bounded around and squealed at every other little thing. It was great to see her so excited and so happy. This was the first time he'd seen her so filled with life in a while. When he looked up at Mama and she looked down at him, he knew the feeling was mutual.

By sundown, their house came into view. Nadette broke free from Mama's hand and tore through the grass with confidence she hadn't had before. Mama laughed and released Gunter's hand, gathering up her dress and making a quick jog towards the house. Gunter bounded after, grinning from ear to ear with his own excitement. Papa would get it now. He'd see how happy Nadette was. He'd understand the glasses would be important to her, and he'd know she wouldn't risk breaking them.

Gunter reached the porch and nearly fell leaping the steps. But once inside, his grin faded. Papa knelt in front of Nadette, eyeing her new glasses and tilting her head slowly from one side to the other. He took them off and tested them before placing them back over her ears. Then, he asked Mama how much money they had left.

As Mama pulled the almost empty pouch from her pocket, Gunter slipped past them. He followed Nadette into their room, and she made a beeline for the window. She rolled onto her tip-toes, staring out to the sunset with a long, soft 'oooh'.

"It's so pretty," she cooed. Gunter nodded.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

Gunter smiled. He cast a small glance to the door.

Papa walked by, rubbing his face and muttering under his breath as he crossed into his room. Mama followed behind, reaching out and taking his shoulder. She rubbed it with a tenderness only she could provide, and the two disappeared through the door. This was comforting, even to Gunter, who knew once Papa settled, things would be okay again.

* * *

Nadette insisted Mama take her into town later that week when she packed to sell produce. Not wanting to be left alone on the farm, Gunter asked to go, too.

For the first hour or so, Gunter and Nadette loomed around their little stand and helped Mama hand out produce and store coins. Nadette would sometimes stray from the stand when she saw a mouser or other children. They were isolated on their little farm. It wasn't often they got to interact with children their age. She requested to go play with them and, after several moment's deliberation, Mama complied. She gave Gunter a glance and he nodded. He felt reluctant to let Naddy out of his sight, too. Shortly after she'd spotted some kids, Nadette scampered after them. He tugged once on Mama's dress, pointed in the direction Nadette had gone, and sprinted after her.

Naddy had met up with a girl who looked a little older than her. By the time Gunter reached them, they were hand-in-hand, and the girl lead them down an alley and towards a larger group of kids.

"We're playing hide and seek!" The girl announced. Gunter decided immediately that he didn't like this idea. As they neared the group one of the boys, a larger, thick doughy kid, strode forward. His features were squinted and he had a small, cat-like nose. He squinted at Nadette and glanced at Gunter. Gunter noticed a flicker in the kid's eye, and a smirk twitched the boy's lips.

"Who're these guys, Dianne?"

"Naddy!" The girl said. "And her brother. They came all the way from outside the village-they're gonna play with us."

"If they play, she's gotta take those off."

Gunter decided he liked this kid even less.

Nadette frowned, releasing the girl's hand to reach up and cup both of hers around her glasses. "I can't."

"Sure y'can. It'll be more fun if you do," Cat-nose insisted. The brunet at his side nodded in agreement. He was taller; a good looking kid with sharp green eyes and a face shaped like a snake's.

"It's cheating if you don't, four-eyes. You'll see too well."

"Four-eyes?" Nadette repeated, her expression twisting into one of surprise and horror. Cat-nose and Snake-face laughed, a few of the other kids in the back joining them in soft snickers.

Cat-nose nodded and poked the corners of his eyes. "Two eyes." He connected index fingers to thumbs, holding the mock-glasses a few centimeters in front of his face. "Four eyes. That's math."

"An' that's why it's cheating," Snake-face said. "You have to play with two eyes like the rest of us. That's the rule."

"Guys, stop," Dianne insisted, but when they laughed and held the mock glasses over their eyes again, she didn't say anything else. Instead, she cast Nadette an apologetic look and sank towards the back of the group. Gunter watched as she reached the side of one of the other laughing girls, shooting her a weak glare before her eyes looked forward again, and she hugged her sides. Gunter felt a heat rise in his chest and he reached out, taking one of Nadette's hands.

"C'mon."

"Aw, not gonna play?" Cat-nose called. Gunter ignored him. He lead Nadette away, the children's laughter fading behind them as they rounded out of the alley's section and down towards the market. Once they were out, and in view of Mama, he stopped and turned to face her. She pulled the glasses from her face and made to throw them on the ground. He caught her wrist, his heart slamming against his throat.

"-what are you doing?!" He breathed, eyes darting to Mama and back again. Tears streamed down Nadette's cheeks, but she glared through them.

"I don't like them!"

"What? You said you did!"

"I don't like them!" She repeated in a shrill shriek, stomping her foot. The cry was lost to the market bustle. Gunter bit his lip and Nadette thrashed in his hand, trying to get free so she could be rid of the stupid glasses. But he didn't let go. After a few seconds, she gave up. Her legs crumbled beneath her and she slumped to the ground, Gunter grunting as he barely held himself up.

"Naddy, stop."

"NnnNNnnn!"

"Naddy!"

The glasses slipped from her fingers and he fumbled to catch them. He stuffed them into his back pocket.

Gunter cast a pleading look towards Mama but she seemed distracted with some customers. He chewed the inside of his lip. It wouldn't be a good idea to bother her while she was doing that. Papa had been upset about how much the glasses cost and they needed to earn that money back. They wouldn't be able to do that if he pulled Nadette over there while she was having a tantrum, or if he called Mama away from business. Someone might even take their food without paying.

"Naddy, please don't," Gunter begged, giving her arm a gentle tug. She responded with a faint whine. He sighed, bowing and shaking his head. "Naddy, who cares what they think?"

"I do!" She said.

Gunter frowned. "Why?"

"I do!"

"That's not what I asked, Naddy," he said, gentler this time. There was a pause and she sniffed, raising her wrist and rubbing her her swollen eyes. She sniffed again.

"I don't wanna be a cheater and I don't wanna be a four-eyes."

"You're not a cheater," Gunter said, his expression hardening. "And you're not a 'four-eyes'. They're being mean. Taking off your glasses would have made them the cheaters."

"NnnnNNnn," she whined again, pulling her wrist away from him and rubbing at her eyes. Gunter sighed and seated himself beside her, curling his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. She kept her rubbing at her eyes and whining every few seconds. Gunter's frown weakened.

"... What are you doing?"

"Tryin' to fix 'em," she said. Gunter reached forward and took her wrists, prying them away from her face.

"Don't do that."

"But-"

"It won't 'fix' your eyes, Naddy," he said, firm but gentle. She stared back at him, hopeless, and her expression began to crumble. That hurt more than anything he'd ever experienced. "I'm sorry."

This doesn't help nor convince her. She curls into herself, hiding her face from him.

Gunter chewed on his bottom lip and exhaled, drumming his fingers along his shin. There had to be something he could say to make her feel better. But it didn't seem like she was going to believe any form of reassurance right now. He needed to make her think. Make her realize this wasn't a big deal on her own. Seeing the world was so much more important. And safe. He pursed his lips.

"Do you remember how excited you were walking home?"

She didn't respond. He continued.

"You got to see Mama like I see her. And the trees, like I do. The sky."

Still no verbal response, but she shifted her weight and huffed. It was something. He continued.

"And remember the grass? You could see every blade-you said so, yourself."

She peeked up at him over her knees. He smiled, tilting his head. "You could see Nazar, too. Remember how exciting that was? And I showed you all the presents he gave us. How pretty they were?"

"Yeah," she murmured, huffing and wiping at her eyes.

"You were happy to see Nazar, right? And the presents? Especially the stones?"

"... Yeah."

"Is what those kids think better than that?"

A pause, and she answered, "no."

He gave her an expectant look and shrugged. "We won't even see them again. The kids. They don't live near us; they live here."

She blinked. The realization dawned on her and she sniffed, smearing her hands against her face.

"So who cares what they think?" Gunter said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out her glasses. He inched a little closer to her and leaned forward, opening the glasses and setting them, gentle, atop her nose and ears. She blinked her eyes a few times, looking up at him. Then she leaned back, adjusting the glasses a little and staring down at the ground. He waited, nervous that she might attempt to throw them to the ground again, but instead she looked up and smiled.

"Who cares?" She echoed, holding her chin higher and wiping one last time at her cheeks. Gunter smiled and pushed to his feet. He offered her a hand and she took it. He pulled her to her feet, steadying her when she wobbled for a moment, and squeezed her hand gently in his. They walked, together, back to the food stand.

They'd gone this long with just each other. They'd always have each other. And they didn't need anyone else.


	4. Chapter 4

Nadette wore her glasses with a sense of pride now. It helped that they rarely went back into town with Mama or Papa. Wherever Gunter went, Nadette followed. Not once did Gunter seem to mind her constant presence, attention and questions. They'd no desire to meet new children and, in wake of them, would stay silent and close to one another. They were each other's best friends and they never strayed too far from the tiny house.

It was a cool October morning. He was nine that day. She was two months into her eighth year.

Neither of them knew what was happening when Mama dropped her kitchen ware and ran to the window. She gripped the sill and lurched into the grass outside. Gunter and Nadette cried out to her. Nadette ran to Mama's side and Gunter shot into the garden where Papa was working. He told him what happened in a mess of words. Papa ran into the house and didn't stop until he was at Mama's side. He wiped her mouth with a dish rag and held her long hair over her shoulders.

Gunter and Nadette watched in concern. Gunter felt his own queasiness rise in his gut as the smell of bile touched his nose. He'd smelled it a few times before. Rancid and burning, it never failed to twist and knot his stomach. He remembered a twitching figure and panic. It must have showed on his face because Nadette took one of his hands in hers. He looked down at her and she looked up at him, squeezing his hand. He nodded silent thanks and looked forward again.

When it passed and Mama seemed better, she assured them there was nothing to worry about. She was fine. Gunter searched her features for a sign of a fib, but he found none.

* * *

A month later, on a chilly November evening, Mama called them in for supper. His stomach growled, still hungry from a small lunch, but he continued to ignore it. Small as their lunches were, it was more than worth it to share with Nazar. He'd brought them another piece of tinted glass that afternoon. It didn't matter whether the present were a button, a scrap of metal or a river stone. To them, it was all the same glorious expression of gratitude.

Gunter and Nadette said 'good-bye' to Nazar and hurried across the small field. They ran into the house and scampered to the table. Gunter crawled into his chair, watching as Mama spooned a helping and buttered bread onto his plate. There were eggs, too. A few bits of fresh vegetables, the last of their harvest this year. It was the biggest dinner they'd had in months, even if the individual portions were small. Something was going on...

Mama smiled and seemed to float around the room, giving both him and Nadette gentle kisses on their foreheads. She greeted them with a tender 'hello, baby' before she glided back to the small stove.

Gunter watched her, feeling lightness in his chest. He liked it when Mama seemed happy, but the day had been pretty normal. He wondered what made her so alive tonight.

The thought is lost to the smell of vegetables and the scent of warm food. He shoveled some into his mouth and watched her as she sat down.

Mama inhaled and straightened in her chair, flexing her hands against the table and looking from the two of them to Papa. Gunter blinked at her as she cast him a beaming smile and turned back to them.

"Gunter." A tilt of her head to look at Naddy. "Nadette." And back to him. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Your Papa and I have something exciting to tell you."

Immediately, Nadette looked up from her plate. Gunter already stared with wide eyes. He placed his spoon down and rested his hands in his lap. His fingers curled against his thighs, and he swallowed.

Mama reached to her side and took Papa's hand, squeezing it. Gunter noticed Papa didn't look at her when she looked at him. He was smiling. His eyes were clouded. His hand rested loose between Mama's smaller, squeezing palms. Gunter turned his attention back to her, deciding it would be best to just listen.

Mama took in a deep breath, holding it as she looked back and forth between them. Her smile widened and she looked to Papa again. "Well." And back to them. "... You're going to have a little brother or sister."

Silence.

Both Gunter and Nadette stared. Then, Nadette let out a whoop and bounced in her chair. Papa flinched and snorted, shaking his head. She shoved her hands on the table and pushed herself out of her seat, standing on her chair.

"Really?!"

Mama let out a soft laugh, covering her mouth with one hand and nodding. "Yes! I-I think so!"

"A little brother or sister?!" Nadette shouted, leaping out of her chair and scampering around to Mama's chair. She hugged her tightly, and Mama laughed again. Gunter beamed at the two of them. He turned his head to smile at Papa, but stopped. Papa's smile was gone now. He pressed his knuckles against the curve of his chin, staring at his untouched plate. Gunter's smile faltered and began to fall as he took in the sight. If Papa noticed that he'd been watching, he didn't let it show.

* * *

It began to grow colder. Gunter and Nadette couldn't leave without an extra layer of their already thin clothes. Meals grew smaller as the weeks went by.

When the first snow arrived, Gunter and Nadette played in it for only a few minutes. They grew cold and scampered back into the house with a gentle fit of laughter.

Mama lit the fireplace one night and the family huddled before the flames. Papa sat in the back with his arms wrapped around Mama and his head on her shoulder. Mama held Gunter in her lap and he kept his arms bound loose around Nadette. Over them was the largest, thickest of their blankets ( which even then wasn't much ). It, with the fire, was enough to keep them warm until it was time for bed.

Gunter and Nadette would slide into their bed and huddle together. They'd wrap their two blankets around them and curl as close as possible to one another. Gunter would wrap his arms around her and rest his head against hers. She'd bury her face against his chest as the cold brushed over their skin, stung their noses and fingertips. They knew the winter would only get worse.

* * *

By December, Mama had begun to grow rounder. Her small, skinny frame began to expand in the front and sides. The bump on her stomach became more pronounced as the days passed by.

Gunter and Nadette would do what they could to help Papa with the chickens. They became a presence in the house, as they usually did. Their coop had collapsed three years ago during a heavy storm and Papa hadn't the money or time to rebuild it. They'd lost a few chickens that first year, but once they started bringing them into the house, things got a little better. Of course, things also got messier. There were always feathers, always droppings, to clean up. Sometimes Gunter would catch the chickens nesting in places they really shouldn't be ( no no no, the stove might be warm but that is NOT ideal! ).

At night, the chickens would migrate to their bedroom. Gunter woke to the scratchy sounds of their talons moving across the floorboards. Their wings would flutter as they hopped onto the bed. He'd open his eyes and watch their silhouettes as they bobbed closer, and he'd feel the ticklish brush of their feathers as they nestled against him. Nadette would stir only long enough to open her eyes and peek at their company. Then, roll over and close her eyes again. While their bodies were small, the chickens would keep him and Nadette warm throughout the night. And their soft churring helped lull them to sleep.

Nazar had stopped visiting in late November. He'd gone to wherever it was most birds go when things begin to get cold. Somewhere beyond the walls. Without Nazar and the other birds, mornings were quiet and the days quieter. It became easier to feel alone as they'd sit inside the house and stare out the window into the white.

The snow seemed to fall fast and endless. If you opened the door, it'd fall into the entry way. The wind would bite at your face, sting your skin. Gunter grew to hate it. He'd never been fond of the cold months, the way they burned your skin and punished you for existing. Winters were harsh, unforgiving and cruel.

When the birds left, disappearing over the wall's peak, he both did and didn't envy them. They got to leave, go somewhere 'better', yes. But whether the walls existed or not, no where could really be 'better'. There would always be winter. There would always be the bees and allergies in the spring and summer. There would always be animals lurking in the woods or mean children waiting in the cities. The walls only protected them from one monster. They did little to defend against the others.

* * *

By January, the contrast between Mamas stomach and the rest of her grew concerning. The portions had been so small this winter that they all lost weight. Even as Mama lost weight, she gained weight. But it all came from the baby. She seemed exhausted most of the time.

The siblings tried to help Mama around the house. She'd sit and take breaks while Nadette and Gunter buzzed about. They wrapped her shoulders and feet in any spare blankets they could find. Sometimes Nadette would pull Mama to sit by the fire and give her her favorite chicken. The bird would _buuuuuuuurk-erk-erk_ as Mama let her settle in her lap.

* * *

February wasn't much different. It was frosty, cold and filled with chilling fogs and gentler snow storms. It kept them indoors and Mama began to spend more and more time in bed. It was harder for her to get up in the morning and once she was up, she'd sit down and rest. Papa began to cook and clean. He'd hover over Mama as though she were a child with fever. Nadette and Gunter tended to the chickens.

Food portions remained small. Gunter, Nadette and Papa would try to offer Mama rations of their food but she always refused. It was important they all ate as much as they could, she'd say. Keep their strength up. Winter wouldn't be around much longer; once spring got here, things would be better. Would be easier. They weren't to worry themselves over her.

Gunter and Nadette would remain worried anyway. They'd huddle at night, surrounded by blankets and chickens, and whisper to each other.

"Do y'think Mama's okay?" Nadette asked one night, curling herself closer to him as one of the chickens nestled a bit too near her ear. It tickled her and she'd huff, but she didn't try to push the chicken away.

Gunter nodded. "She's fine." Although he wasn't sure he believed it.

"D'ya think she's right? When spring comes, things'll be better?"

"Things're always better when spring comes," he pointed out. There was a pause, and she nodded.

"Yeah."

"The baby will be here in spring, too. That's better."

She nodded again, giggling a little. "Yeah."

And they fell silent. Eventually, they fell asleep.

His tenth birthday came and went without much attention that February, but he didn't mind. Other things were far more important.

* * *

Throughout April, Nadette became impatient. Rightfully so. It dragged on. Waiting for May was like watching a pot of water, waiting for it to boil. It didn't seem to happen fast enough.

Many of the days were rain veiled. Gentle showers pouring down, bringing all that had fallen over the winter back to life. Gunter peered over the window frame one afternoon and watched the droplets race down the glass. Birdsong and the soft trill of frogs began to rise in the mornings. Sometimes, he would wonder what they were saying. Other times, he wondered where Nazar was.

Gunter would pull up a chair and all asleep against the cool window from time to time. Everything, from the window to the gentle lighting and pitter of rain, brought him a sense of calm.

* * *

May crept in. A new sense of energy filled the little house. Everyone kept a close eye on Mama. Everyone seemed ready to sprint from the house and fetch Nazar's mother. Mrs. Lebedev was the closest thing to a midwife they had. Even Nadette would hover by the door from time to time if Mama began to act strange.

Days passed. Nights slipped by. A new form of worry draped over the household.

One night, deep into May, Nadette wedged herself close to Gunter and poked at his shoulder until he rolled to glance at her. She blinked up at him, squinting without her glasses.

"D'ya think Mama's okay?"

Gunter frowned, soft, and shifted to face her in full. She'd grown to ask this question a lot. "Of course she is."

"... And the baby?"

"It kicked today."

"I know."

"It's okay, Naddy."

"I know." She didn't seem convinced.

Gunter sighed, pushing up to sit on his elbow. "Naddy."

"What?" She looked up at him, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head. "You said she's okay. And th'baby kicked today. So they're fine." When he continued to frown, she puffed out her cheeks. "Don't."

"It's okay to be worried," he said, lying back on the pillow. She let out a huff.

"I don't want to have to be worried."

"Why are you?"

"It's taking so long!"

"Babies take a long time."

She snorted, whispering in a hiss. "You don't remember when I was born. Mama said so."

"No," he admitted. "But Mama does. And she also said you were late."

Nadette stared at him a moment. She opened her mouth to argue back but a small cry pierced the air, and something in Mama and Papa's room shattered.


	5. Chapter 5

He'd never ran so fast in his life.

It's a mad sprint through the darkness. Tripping in ditches, over rocks and whatever else lay in his path. For once he doesn't worry about what lurked in the black. The only thing on his mind is getting to the little house past the stump as fast as he could.

It felt like an eternity. The black felt endless. But he finally reached the Lebedev house. He threw himself at the door, pounding and trying to call out to her. He wasn't sure if his voice was working. He could hear it in his head but not in his ears. It echoed, rose and fell, and he pounded away. Until, finally, someone came to the door.

Nazar's mother. She hadn't seen him on her porch in almost five years. But tonight, by the hour, the way he struggled for words and pointed breathlessly towards the road, she knew why he'd come.

She still took forever to dress. The whole _walk_ back to their house she seemed calm and collected. Gunter sprinted ahead of her, looking back whenever he thought he was getting too far to see. His heart and mind raced. All he could think about was how Mama stood in the corner of her room with the wash basin shattered on the floor at her feet. Her arms wrapped around her swollen stomach. Papa hovering over her, eyes wide. The order to get Mrs. Lebedev as quick as possible. To run. To _run_.

And here they were. Walking.

He's getting impatient, but holds his tongue. They continue forward and, at last, reach the little farm. The chickens seemed restless in their coop. He could hear another small cry from within the house and his concerns flew not only to Mama but to Nadette. He'd left her alone in their room. She'd been listening to that sound this whole time.

With the house in sight, he broke from Mrs. Lebedev's side. He tore up the steps, all but bursting through the door and darting through the tiny home. He passed Mama and Papa's room, noticing the cracked door, and slid into his and Nadette's room. She sat curled on the bed with her arms around her knees, wide-eyed and terrified. He climbed onto the bed and dropped down beside her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. He felt her body hitch and a breath weezed from her lungs. She didn't wail or cry as she leaned closer.

They saw Mrs. Lebedev's shadow cross the hall. The bedroom door creaked open and she went inside. Voices lifted, the concerned voice of Papa, the already tired voice of Mama and the calm, soft voice of Mrs. Lebedev. Her's is the most confusing of all. Had she not heard Mama screaming?

"Are you okay?" He asked Nadette, rubbing one of her arms and fixing his own a bit tighter around her. His words were ragged, short of breath, but she understands them. Nadette huffs and sniffs, trying to get rid of any tears that threatened to start falling.

"Yeah."

"Y'sure?"

"Yeah."

Gunter nods. He leaned across the small bed and pulled her glasses off the stand, raising them and setting them on her head. She adjusts them, giving him a weak smile and scratching at the space under her bangs. She studies him even though her eyes are clouded.

" _You_ okay?"

He nodded again, exhaling a long breath. "Yeah." He raised a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow but she shakes her head. She grabs the corner of one of their sheets and dabs at his face.

"Y' _sure_?" She echoed, a brow arced. He smiled a little and began to nod a third time. A long, aching groan rose from the room across the hall and carried throughout the house, ending in a shrill, soft cry. Nadette went ridged and stared at the doorway. Gunter pulled her closer.

Neither of them moved or spoke until they could hear voices filling in the room across. Once he heard Mama speaking, he felt Nadette reach up and wrap her hand around one of his arms, squeezing it. "Y'sure?"

Still, he nodded. "Yeah."

* * *

The night crawls by. They don't sleep. They cling to each other as they sit in their bed. Mama's groans and soft cries begin to grow louder, longer.

Neither moved, neither seemed willing to try. Sometimes Nadette would shift her weight and lean a little closer to him. He thought she might be trying to fall asleep. He could feel exhaustion weighing on his own eyes, but he wouldn't close them. His heart pounded in his chest and his mind buzzed. He hoped Naddy would fall asleep; she deserved to. But another groan or cry would wrench through the house, and Nadette would jolt.

* * *

Another hour passes. Nothing has changed. He can hear Mrs. Lebedev shuffling from the bedroom, through the house and back again. He can hear gentle murmurs from within the room. Sometimes he can make out Mama's weaker voice among them, but it's Papa and Mrs. Lebedev who talk the most.

When things are quiet for several minutes, Nadette begins to wedge her way out of bed. Gunter leaned forward and caught her arm, pulling her back.

"Don't."

She wiggled, but didn't attempt to twist out of his hold. "Why not?"

"They need space," he answered. Another body standing around, taking up walk ways, could slow Mrs. Lebedev down if there was an emergency. He also knew Mama wouldn't want them in the room, seeing her struggle.

She always hid when she needed to cry, needed to show some sort of pain. He'd found her a couple times in the past, hiding away behind the house or by the chicken coop, and she'd always chuckle and wave it off as nothing. He'd nod and leave her be, even if he knew it was a lie.

Nadette huffed and wiggled again. "I'll stand 'gainst the wall."

"Naddy, don't," he repeated, pulling her a little closer. His voice dropped. "Please don't."

"But what if something's-"

A scream pierced the air and they both jumped, gasped. Nadette shrank against him. She pulled her legs back onto the bed and scooted until her side touched his, and he wove his arms around her in full. She huffed, sniffed, and wiped at the underside of her nose. "I hate this."

Gunter bit his lip. He nodded.

* * *

The sun began to peek over the walls, its light spreading across the grass and making it glow a soft golden green. Birds began to sing. A gentle fog blanketed the world, muting the colors beneath a white-gray veil. The chickens began to stir outside, clucking, churring, trying to sing along with the flowing tunes of the songbirds around them. And as Gunter watched the world through the window outside, he felt a strange sense of calm overwhelm him.

The morning is beautiful. The sunlight sparkled on the dew grass and the fog.

He smiled a little. Nadette must have noticed because she squinted at him, her expression confused and ever so slightly annoyed.

"Why're you smiling?"

Gunter tilted his head to the window. "Look."

She turned her head and studied the window. Whatever he'd seen in the morning, she didn't. This only stirred her further. She wiggled in his arms and let out a louder huff. "So?"

"It'll be okay," he said. She looked up at him again but didn't say anything. He knew what that glance meant. It's questioning, uncertain, wondering how he could have come to such a conclusion. But to him, the day looked perfect. Too beautiful and hopeful for something to go wrong. Maybe it was a sign.

Papa believed in signs, just as he'd believed their crow had been a bad one. A bad 'omen' ( he knew the word now ). But Papa had been wrong about Nazar. The crow brought them so much happiness.

A beautiful sunrise, a glowing morning like this could never brought anyone sorrow. So, maybe. He would be right. This was a sign that everything was going to be fine. That the baby would come and Mama's screams would stop.

* * *

Her screams became louder but at the same time, weaker. Shriller.

They could hear voices from across the hall, hurried, rushed and panicked. Gunter and Nadette stayed close against each other. Their eyes were fixed on the door. Neither of them could move. They both strained to hear some sort of word, hint, that everything was alright.

Until, finally, silence filled the air. They waited, their breath held and bodies tense as they prepared for another long shriek to follow. But none came. Not at first.

Then, the cry of a baby. A long, high-pitched wail.

Gunter and Nadette both straightened. They looked at each other, expressions wide and beaming. Nadette let out a small laugh and covered her mouth with her hands. The baby's cries continued. They waited for a sound of happiness from their parents, relief from Mrs. Lebedev. Chatter. Laughter. Someone to come in and introduce them to their new brother or sister.

But, aside from the babe's cries, things remained silent.

Slowly, their smiles began to fade.

They cast one another nervous glances. Both leaned forward, trying to hear any sort of voice beneath the wail of the new child. Gunter could hear was frantic whispering. The whine of his father's voice. Nothing from Mama.

He felt his throat go dry.

Nadette began to stir beside him but he stopped her, shook his head. Then, instead of remaining where he was, like he had the entire night, he pushed himself to the edge of the bed and slipped off. The floor was cold under his feet and he flinched. But he tip-toed across, casting Nadette a glance over his shoulder as he reached the door. She'd crawled to the end of the bed and started to slide off, but he signaled for her to stop.

'Why?' She mouthed, brows knitted and frustrated, worried. He shook his head, expression firm. She stared at him for a moment longer before she accepted his response, and she curled up on the bed once more.

Gunter pushed into the hall and stared at the cracked doorway. He could see sunlight, flickering candlelight, against the walls. Shadows of the trees outside danced in the sunlight. He's distracted, for a moment, by the gentle, calm sway of the branches and leaves. A horrible, metallic smell creeps through the air. It begins to burn his nose, and it touches his tongue when he inhales. Goose bumps prickle his arms and he feels the hair stand on end. As he crept closer he could hear frantic whispering beneath the baby's screams. Apologies. Sobbing. Just before he reached the door, Papa's voice rang through the house.

"-OUT-" He yelled, and Gunter jumped and flattened himself to the opposite wall. " _GET OUT_."

Mrs. Lebedev burst through the door with a bundled towel in her arms. She looked at Gunter, and he felt his stomach drop. She's pale and wide-eyed, near tears. She swallows and fumbles with the bundle, looking down at it. He watches as her expression twists and she presses her lips together, squeezes her eyes shut. The bundle lets out a wail and she steps to Gunter, all but forcing the thing into his arms.

"I'm sorry," Nazar's mother chokes. And she turns, runs out of the house. He stands still as she leaves him behind. He flinches when the door slams shut.

His eyes trail from the hall corner to the bundle in his arms. His throat clinches when he sees all the red, the blood, and the baby screams again. He almost drops it, fumbling and pressing it against his chest. It writhes a little in his arms. His mind races and he swallows, looking desperately to the room across. He didn't know what to do.

Cold panic seeped down his throat and filled his stomach, like he'd swallowed a large glass of ice water at once. Gunter moved forward and to the open door of his parent's room.

"Papa-"

And he froze.

Shadows from the tree beyond their window continue to dance through the little room. The scene appears peaceful, touched with soft golds, whites and greens. His father lies over the side of the bed. Mama lay in the middle. He's holding one of her creamy hands, his face buried in the crook of his arm. She lays with her eyes closed and her head tilted back, her mouth partially open. Blood soaks the bed and sheets around her legs.

Gunter backed out.

He stumbles as his knees shake under his weight. His back hits the opposite wall and it forces a breath from his lungs. His body runs ice cold. Tears burn his eyes and he holds the baby closer. He could feel bile threatening to rise his throat. He wanted to throw up. Wanted to run. Wanted to get out. The baby wailed and wiggled in his arms again.

He became aware of the figure standing in their bedroom door.

Nadette stared at him, wide-eyed. Her gaze trailed from the red-smeared baby to the expression on his face. He saw her swallow. Her fingers dug into the door's frame. "... Gunter?"

"G... Go back inside, Naddy," he croaked.

At first, she doesn't obey. She walks out of their room, her head craning towards the open door. But he side-steps and shifts the babe in his arms, holding one out to block her. She grunts when her chest hits his arm and he forces her backwards, back into the darkness of their room. He shook his head, swallowing down the bile.

"Gunter," she started, but he shook his head a second time. That didn't silence her. "Gunter, what happened? Why is the baby all..." She trailed off.

"H-Hold it," he said, trying to shift the baby and trade it into her arms. She fumbled and lowered her arms into a scoop.

"Like this?"

He tried to remember. He reached down, adjusting her hands with his as they shook. She must have noticed because she allowed him to guide her without asking a single question.

"I-I need t-to get a towel," he muttered, stepping back. "Stay in here. G-get into bed."

She nodded and turned away, walking to their bed as he sprinted from the room. His legs shook beneath him and he stumbled into their kitchen. He snatched a towel from the counters, wetting it in the sink. He paused. And he vomited into the drain, coughing and trembling as he pushed away. He ran back to their room, trying to ignore his parents' open door, the thick smell lingering in the hall, as he passed. He crawled into the bed where Nadette sat, and he began to wipe the babe's head. He touched like he'd touch an egg, with so much delicate care that it might break or crack at the smallest pressure. And still, the baby cried.

When they unwrapped the towel to continue cleaning its body, he heard Nadette squeak. He looked at her and she nodded once, pressing her lips together and exhaling through her nose. "Sister," she whispered; he barely heard her over the baby's crying. "She's a sister."

Gunter looked down. Nadette was right. He cast her a glance, unable to conjure any excitement. But he managed a weak smile. She beamed back at him for a moment before looking down at their new sister and bouncing her gently in her arms. Gunter wiped the baby down to her tiny toes, tossing the rag aside as the last of the blood washed away.

Nadette let out a faint giggle when the baby cooed. Gunter watched them in silence, trying to feel the same calm that had sank over Nadette. But he couldn't.

He remembered Mrs. Lebedev, the pain in her face and how quickly she'd left. The way his father yelled. How he slumped over the bed and Mama's pale, tired face. Her eyes closed. All the blood covering the end of the bed, pooling in the sheets. Mama hadn't moved. Hadn't begged to see her baby.

Gunter swallowed and curled up beside Nadette. For a moment, he stared at his feet. Then, his eyes trailed to the world outside.

The sun had risen. Orange, pinks and soft blues filled the sky. The fog remained draped over the earth and the grass glittered under the sun's gentle beams. The birds continued to sing. The chickens churred on. Everything went on as though nothing had happened.

This was the day Gunter knew death.

 _\- end part one: childhood._


	6. Chapter 6

_part two: nine years ago_

They were lucky. If you wanted to call it that.

Mrs. Lebedev came back several minutes later with a glass bottle of fresh goat's milk from their farm.

Nadette and Gunter watched as she took the baby from them and turned the bottle on its side. She nudged the edge against the baby's mouth until she began to sip on the drops of goats milk. It was a messy process. The milk dripped everywhere, all over their sheets and Mrs. Lebedev's arms, but none of them cared. The children watched in silence as the baby squeaked, whined and sipped away. Gunter noticed Mrs. Lebedev's eyes were swollen, her expression weary. Every now and again, she'd look away from the baby and wipe aat her eyes.

Nadette must have noticed, too. She sent Gunter a concerned glance. He shook his head, unable to think of the right words to say. So the room remained quiet. Still. The only sounds came form the baby, or from the across room where they could hear Papa sobbing. Gunter tried to ignore the sounds but found he couldn't.

When the baby whined and stopped drinking the milk, Mrs. Lebedev moved her into Gunter's arms. She showed him how to prop the baby on his shoulder, so her head would still be supported, and how to pat her back. Gunter did as he was shown until the baby let out a tiny huff of a burp.

Mrs. Lebedev sniffed and wiped at her face, shaking her head and shuffling in silence from the room. Nadette and Gunter watched her go and heard her leave through the front doot. And the house fell silent once again, aside from the baby's cries and the fainter sobs of Papa from his bedroom. But neither Gunter nor Nadette made a move to go inside and check on him.

"What do we do?" Nadette whispered. Gunter bit his lip and glanced towards the door. The baby let out a faint whine and he felt a nervous twist in his stomach. He wasn't sure what to do. He'd never taken care of a baby before. When Nadette was little, Mama did most of the care taking for her; he'd only been two at the time. The baby let out a louder, longer whine. When a figure didn't appear at the doorway, Gunter turned to Nadette.

"We need to keep her from cryin'," he whispered back. Nadette nodded. She scooted a little closer and took the baby's hand in her own, giving it a gentle squeeze and a shake. It seemed to work. The baby whimpered, wrapping her pudgy little fingers around Nadette's thumb. She smacked her lips and huffed.

The morning dragged on. Within a half hour, the baby began to cry. After an hour she was wailing, and nothing Gunter and Nadette did did anything to stop the tears. They took turns holding her, walking small laps around the room and trying to bounce her in their arms. When she grew too heavy to hold they'd trade off. By the time it was lunch, Mrs. Lebedev appeared one more time and helped them feed the baby again. And, again, she disappeared immediately after the baby finished the milk. When the baby would start to cry a half hour later, they'd shoot glances to their room door, hoping Papa would appear to help them with the baby.

"Has he met her yet?" Nadette asked. Gunter bit his lip. He remembered hearing Papa yell at Mrs. Lebedev. That was probably why she came and left so quickly.

"I don't know."

Nadette frowned. "Doesn't he wanna?"

"Of course he does," Gunter said, brows furrowing. He paused, wiggling a little under Nadette's stare. His eyes dropped to look down at the baby in her arms, who whimpered and sniffed. She was still a soft pink, still lightly stained with pale crimson. Blood. Mama's blood. She'd died to give them this baby; he knew it, and he knew Papa knew it. That's why he was so sad. That's why he hadn't come to meet the baby yet.

Gunter watched Nadette kiss the baby's forehead and bounce her in her arms. He watched her smile at the newborn, giggle when she clumsily smacked herself in the face with her wrist. But he couldn't bring himself to laugh. Couldn't bring himself to smile. He didn't feel happy, or excited, to see his baby sister. He didn't want to hold her anymore. He just wanted Mama back.

* * *

By mid-afternoon, movement could be heard from down the hall. Gunter passe the baby to Nadette and inched his way to their room door. He peered out of it, creaking it open just enough to see. He saw his father wedge out of his room, carrying a large bundle of carmine sheets. His breath caught. He watched as Papa carried her down the hall and out of the house. The door swung shut and there was silence once again.

Gunter bit his lip hard and shut the door, keeping his hand against the knob and bowing his head.

"What?" Nadette asked from the bed. "What is it? Is it Papa?"

Gunter exhaled and shook his head, turning to lean a little against the door.

"No."

* * *

In the late evening, both children were having trouble staying awake. They wobbled around their room, taking turns holding the baby or letting her sleep in a small nest of blankets they'd made in the center of their bed. Nadette curled up around the little nest at one point and fell asleep. Gunter watched the both of them, remaining upright as he looked out the window and twisted his fingers in one of his hands.

He could feel his eyes beginning to burn, but he wouldn't allow himself to cry. Not now. He cast a glance to Nadette and their new sister's sleeping forms and chewed his lip again, shaking his head at himself. Not now.

A thin creak caught his ears and Gunter turned his head to the door.

Papa walked into the room, slow and uncoordinated. There were bags under his eyes, purple and black, and his eyes themselves looked glassy and lost. His posture was sunken. His arms hung at his sides. He looked wilted and old.

Gunter held his breath as Papa reached the end of the bed and came to a stop staring down at Nadette and the newborn. He stared for a long time. Then, he turned his head and looked at Gunter, swallowing hard.

"Y'fed it yet?"

Gunter hesitated and nodded once. "Yessir." A pause. He quickly added, "Mrs. Lebedev brought her goat's milk. 'Couple times."

Papa stared at him. Then he nodded, and his eyes slipped down to stare at Nadette and the baby once again. Gunter sat, wringing his hands and watching papa's face. He almost hoped that he'd take the baby and leave. He could feel the desire to cry building in his stomach, rising into his chest and forcing bile up his throat. He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw up. But most of all, he wanted to run. Hide. Cry, until he couldn't anymore.

The room remained silent. Still. Until, finally, Papa turned and walked out.

Gunter watched him with wide eyes, flinching as the door shut behind him. The welt in his throat threatened to burst. He could feel the tears burning in the back of his eyes. A sour taste filled his mouth and he wanted to scream for Papa to come back. For Papa to help them, tell them what to do. But he bit his lip. Bit his tongue. And he remained still on the edge of his bed, his shaking hands gripping his knees.

* * *

Papa did return with another fresh bottle of goat's milk from the Lebedev farm. He took the baby from her blanket nest and left the room.

Gunter watched Papa carry the baby out of their room and felt something in his body slacken. As soon as the door shut, his need to stay awake blocked off, Gunter felt himself sink backwards. He collapsed on the bed beside Nadette, and they both slept through the entirety of the night.

* * *

They woke the following morning and almost panicked at the sight of the empty blanket nest.

Nadette shook Gunter awake and pointed at the negative space. "Where is she?!"

Gunter felt his heart clench in his chest. He shook his head, scrambling off the bed. He looked under it, feeling a small relief in his heart to see she hadn't fallen off the bed and hit the ground below. Nadette tore the blankets apart, throwing them off the bed in every direction as her eyes began to water. But the baby was nowhere to be found.

The two looked at each other, and they fled the room. Their parent's room door was open, the room empty. So they darted from the hall.

"PAPA!" Nadette shrieked, choking on a small sob. Gunter swallowed thickly. They wheeled into the kitchen just as Nadette cried out again. " _PAPA_ -!"

They stumbled to a stop.

Papa sat at the kitchen table with the baby in the crook of his arm. There's a glint in his eye. A stiffness in his jaw. Gunter feels himself shrink, and he shifts his weight from foot to foot. Nadette slackens and she lets out a choked noise, her hands clenched at her sides.

"Why did ya take her?!"

Papa stares at them in silence before he rolls his jaw and pushes slowly to his feet. He steps across to Gunter and ducks down, pushing the baby into his arms, before he straightens and leaves the room without a word. They hear the door slam shut, and Nadette scampers to the nearest window. The baby begins to wail, and Gunter feels his stomach go cold. Nadette rolls onto the balls of her feet and peers out the window.

"... He's gettin' to work," she said, casting Gunter a brief glance over her shoulder and frowning. She turned her attention back to the world outside. "He's startin' to work on the farm."

Gunter blinked, realization sweeping over him. With Mama gone, Papa still had to tend to the farm. To the chickens and to the plants. He still had work to do. He couldn't take care of the baby and the farm at the same time.

His eyes dropped to the infant in his arms, who squirmed and let out another faint squeak. Gunter frowned, swallowing hard as he adjusted the baby in his arms. And he understood. He and Nadette would have to help. Without Mama, Papa would need their help. And the very least they could do was watch over the baby until he had time to take her from them.

* * *

About mid-afternoon they faced their first dilemma. Though Mrs. Lebedev would stop by with the goat's milk, neither of them had asked or thought to get each other breakfast. So as afternoon rolled in, they realized how hungry they were. Nadette began to complain, and Gunter would fidget, glance to the door. Papa would have to come in and get something to eat, too. When he did, maybe they could all eat together.

But Papa never came. And the hours dragged on. They grew hungrier. Until, finally, Nadette pulled a chair to the counter and climbed atop it, reaching for the breadbox. Gunter's eyes widened. He ran up to the chair, clutching the baby against his chest. He cast a nervous glance to the door before looking back up to her, hissing through his teeth. "Nadette!"

She looked back at him, frowning. "What?"

"What are you _doing_?"

"I'm hungry."

"We aren't supposed to eat between meals," Gunter said, his eyes darting to the door and back again. Nadette's frown deepened, and she pushed out her bottom lip.

"But we never had breakfast."

She had a point. Technically, they'd never had a first meal to eat between. And Papa hadn't come in to prepare lunch yet, either. Still, he shifted between his feet, adjusting the baby in his arms and almost whining under his breath. But he was tired. And he was hungry. He didn't want to argue with Nadette right now. So he kept his mouth shut as she climbed onto the counter and pulled two slices of bread from the box.

* * *

Nadette never asked what had happened to Mama. It was as though she knew without ever having seen or heard from either of them. Instead, she stuck close to Gunter's side, helping keep the baby calm and quiet throughout the length of the day. She didn't cry until night time. Once they were in bed together, he could hear her sniffing and choking on her breath. So he wedged a little closer and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close as her shoulders trembled and jolted with every sob.

"I'm tired, Gunter," she whispered, sniffing hard. "I'm tired and I miss Mama. I don't want to take care of the baby anymore. I miss Mama."

The words came strained and broken. He held her until she fell asleep, unable to close his own eyes.

* * *

On the third morning, Nadette sighed and looked up at Gunter. She frowned, wiggling a little and adjusting the baby in her arms. "Gunter?"

He wiped at his eyes and yawned, blinking up at her. "Yeah?"

"We haven't named her yet."

He swallowed. That same hesitance pulled in his throat, just as it had once when Mama and Nadette insisted they name the crow. Names are special, Mama had said that day.

Mama and Papa had discussed names with them as her time had grown closer. He remembered the name they'd chosen for a girl and the name they'd chosen for a boy. There still weren't many names Gunter knew and he didn't want to give the baby a name she would regret.

"Lana," he said quietly. "Mama wanted to name her Lana."

* * *

Three days had passed. Nadette and Gunter started taking turns running down to Nazar's old house to get goat's milk from his mother or father. They turned it into a game: who could do it the fastest. Nadette continued to win and held the record, and this didn't surprise him. Even if his stride was longer, his steps were strange and a little awkward. Nadette, now armed with her glasses, could see clearly and ran like a bullet. Now that she could see, she was fearless. She ran with confidence.

Gunter began to feel weary around evening. His eyes hurt. He felt heavy. It felt as though he dragged himself wherever he went. And his eyes burned with tears he hadn't cried. Tears that should have come the night Mama died. Tears that should have fallen for her, for the fact Papa had hardly spoken to any of them in the three days since she died. Tears which wouldn't come because he wouldn't allow them to.

"He should be helping," Nadette said, casting a bitter glance to one of the windows and back again. Gunter blinked at her, aghast.

"Naddy, he's sad."

She shrugged. "So're we."

He frowned, shaking his head. "I-it's different for him."

She scoffed, but said no more, looking down at Lana as she adjusted the milk bottle in her hands. Gunter fell silent, dipping his head to watch Lana sip at the milk. Her dark, wide eyes turned up to Nadette. They rolled a little to look at him and he felt something twist in his chest. They were Mama's eyes. Mama's large, dark brown eyes. It triggered memory of the last time he'd seen her. Frail, exhausted, surrounded by her own blood. He couldn't bare to think of it again.

His throat tightened, but he swallowed. He forced the tears back. _Not now_ , he told himself. _Not in front of Nadette and Lana. Not where they can see or hear you_.

* * *

Papa did help sometimes. Sometimes he'd take Lana from one of them when they were feeding her and feed her himself. But he barely looked at her. And when Gunter tried to tell him what they'd named her, he seemed to not hear it.

By the evening of the fourth day, Papa hadn't come in to feed or even look at Lana since that morning. He'd been out in the fields and on the farm, tending to random chores or the garden. Gunter and Nadette would hover around the small living area, silent and huddled with Lana as the day rolled on. They took turns bouncing her, cooing to her and watching her sleep when she grew tired. Nadette even brought her favorite chicken into the house to meet her. The chicken bobbed and _buuuuuurrrrerk-erk-erk-erk'd_ softly, and Lana smiled.

* * *

It was the fifth night when the darkness crept in.

He lay in bed, Lana in Nadette's old crib and the two of them curled beside each other. Nadette had fallen asleep, but he lay awake and staring, his eyes locked on the wall across. The black seemed to shift and move the longer he stared.

Every time he blinked, he saw her again. Lying in her blood. He saw Papa crying at her side. He saw Nazar's mother, broken and crying as she pushed Lana into his arms and ran for the door. And he heard her screams. Heard them echo and ring in his ears as though she were still there, trapped in her death bed across the hall and still suffering from a pain he'd never know. He was helpless to do anything. He was tired. He was sad.

His eyes began to burn. The world blurred. And he knew he could hold them back no longer.

Gunter wiggled out of bed as carefully as he could manage. His feet touched the floor and his lungs gave a small hiccup. The storm was coming, fast. He tip-toed across their room, holding his breath, and wedged himself out the door. Once out the door, he sprinted down the small hallway and clawed for the closet. He pushed inside and pulled the door shut behind him. Darkness swallowed him and he fell back into the few coats they had. He tore one off the hanger, bundling it into his lap as he pushed himself into the corner and curled into a ball. He wrapped his arms around his knees and shoved his face against them and the coat to muffle the first, hard sob.

And he cried.


End file.
